The Tragedy in the Toothbrush Factory
by lonesome-serpent-san
Summary: The bear is sick and tired of all the fame. This is the story of how he finally breaks, and the consequences. Rated for character death and the bear being depressed D:


The bear was depressed.

No, it was so much worse than that, he was on the verge of becoming an emo. His life was living hell. Daytime TV for kids was definitely not what it had said on the tin. This was not his choice way of living, the bear wanted to walk through the streets without being mauled by little children every time he stuck even his nose out the door.

The fans had gotten so bad recently that they'd had to change his name to 'Brian'. All his close friends still called him Bear though. 'Brian' paused. Wait a second, what friends? The last friend he'd had was the old 'Tutter' and he'd died of a drug overdose a good six months ago.

The bear downed his shot and relaxed slightly as the alcohol warmed his insides. He waved a paw at the barman to get his attention.

Attention he most certainly got. The barman recognised him immediately. How couldn't he? The golden-brown fur, the light blue nose and those deep, dark soulful eyes. It was the face of a superstar. Brian was swamped by camera wielding fans within seconds.

He cursed hoodies and the fact that nobody made them in his size.

A camera flashed and he jumped as the light was burnt into his retinas. He could feel a wave of panic rising in him as all the overexcited people converged around him, threatening to crush him. He struggled to breathe as a tiny girl barrelled into him headfirst, demanding a photo. A growl was torn from his throat before he could stop it. Then there was rage, so much rage. They were like insects scurrying around in his fur and biting his skin, an annoying itch that he yearned to quell. He batted at a man that was pulling at his sleeve, trying to get his attention, and the man fell, his head bouncing on the tiles. The cloying scent of blood filled the air and the crowd started to panic.

The fear overpowered any remaining humanity in the bear's brain and he lost it.

A couple of minutes later there was a lot of bodies and blood. The bear thought back to how his brother had been incarcerated. When the police had questioned him he'd told them that the animal in him had overpowered all rationality and sense that lurked in the recesses of his mind. Of course the human police hadn't listened to his excuse for killing a camp full of people, because they couldn't understand bear. Idiots.

Brian looked around at all the destruction his blood soaked paws had caused. It was like reliving his first kill all over again; overwhelming, exciting and scarily out of control. A surge of panic flooded his chest as he realised that he was the cause of the deaths of all these people, what if somebody had heard the carnage and had called the feds? Shit, was that a siren he heard?

He started picking his way carefully through the bloody carcasses of his fans, studiously avoiding the blank gazes of the corpses that littered his path. Just as he reached the door his gaze fell to a little hand that clutched a toy bear. Something in his chest ripped a tiny bit. It was a cub, an innocent; just a little girl and he'd killed her.

The full weight of his situation finally hit. Hard.

He shouldered his way through the door, the wood splintering, and ran as if his soul depended on it. (Really his soul was already too dark to be saved, buuut... whatever...) His jeans were ripped and blood-soaked but his shattered mind noticed nothing but the trail of bloody paw prints that followed behind him, proof of his guilt. He kept going, trying to outrun them. He realised where his subconscious was taking him then. He was making his way downtown, to the abandoned warehouses at the edge of the river.

There was only one way to avenge the girl cub's death.

He arrived at the warehouse minutes later. It was an old toothbrush factory. He forced the main door and stumbled in ignoring the blaring burglar alarm. He made his way to the bristle cutting machine, his eyes burning. He fumbled with the buttons on the console until it turned on, his eyesight blurring. A tear rolled down his snout and fell to the floor, staining it with his darkness. He walked to the conveyer belt and lay down, feeling the hum of the machine reverberating through his entire being.

He cried freely now, thinking of his childhood and his only real friend, the rat. He thought of the good things in his life and relaxed, accepting the comfort.

Then came the end.

NEWS REPORT;

"_And in further news; the body of the 25 year old 'Bear' was found in an abandoned warehouse near the river. It is believed that the star of the hit TV show 'Bear in the Big Blue House' committed suicide after a killing spree in the local bar 'The Devils Woods'. Now, to Glenda who is there at the scene."_

"_Yais hallo there. I am here at the site of the tragedy that people are already nicknaming 'The Bear Bomb'. Forensic scientists are saying that the star took his life this very night. Eyewitness accounts report that he was seen leaving the site of the massacre in 'The Devils Woods'. Guards say that they were notified of the break in at the toothbrush factory thanks to recently reinforced local burglar watch schemes. The guards arrived at the scene immediately and were met with the sight of the mutilated corpse of 'The Bear' stuck in the bristle cutting machine._

_To say that tonight is a dark night for everyone, is an understatement. The loss of one of the greatest icons of this century has caused a dark wave of depression to sweep the world tonight. I can honestly say that 'The Bear' will be eternally loved and missed._

R.I.P. The Bear. 'Brian'


End file.
